Mega Origins
by bandgeek18
Summary: Who were megaforce before they became rangers? Watch through one-shots as they grow facing horrors; love; betrayal; friendship; grief; and happiness.
1. Troy

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer. I own nothing

_*Italic indicates thought_

Chapter One: Troy

"The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can run from it, or learn from it." -Rafiki; The Lion King

A/N: hey! So this is the first story. Each chapter will be a one-shot on each ranger's history. I might do this for other teams in the future as well. Please review and let me show what you think! Thanks!

**Newborn**  
John Smith smiled as he watched his wife holding their newborn son. After a long, 12 hours to be exact, and emotionally exhausting labor they had welcomed the newest member of their family into the world. His wife, Angela, cradled their son in her arms, gently rocking him back and forth. His three-year-old sat on his knee, sucking his thumb and watching his new brother. "Dad," he said looking up at his father.

"Yes?"

"Is he my new brother?"

"Yes, he is."

"Is he sleepin?"

"Why don't you ask mom?"

"Momma, is the baby sleepin?"

Angela smiled and looked down. Her baby opened his eyes and looked up at her, yawning. "I think so." John picked up his son and set him gently on the bed next to his mother.

"Can I hold him?"

"No dear," Angela said. "You're a little too young. You can talk to him though."

Micheal looked at his younger brother. "Hi little brother. I'm your big brother Micheal. Momma, what's the baby's name?"

"Well," Angela said. "We were thinking about naming him after Grandpa Troy."

"Troy? I like it."

Angela smiled and kissed her son on the forehead. "Welcome to our family, baby Troy."

**Age 3**  
Tory watched from the porch as his brother played with a model plane in the backyard. He got up and ran over to him. "Micheal, can I play?"

"No!" Micheal said. "You're too little. Go play out front."

"But-"

"Go away!"

Troy pouted and left the backyard. He went into the garage and grabbed his scooter. He started riding it up and down their street. He wasn't allowed to leave the short road, or the sidewalk. He smiled, and pushed faster, and faster. He stopped suddenly when a couple of boys around Micheal's age suddenly turned the corner. "Sorry. And hi."

"Hey kid," one of them said. "That's a nice scooter."

"Thanks. My dad got it for me." The boy smiled and pushed Troy off. "Hey!"

"What're you gonna do about it?" the boy asked. "You're too small to do anything about it."

"Micheal!" Troy cried. "Help!"

Micheal heard his younger bother crying, and sighed. "Baby brothers," he muttered. He went to see what was got in on. As soon as he saw Troy in the ground and another boy hosting his scooter he knew something was definitely wrong. "Hey!"

"Micheal, he pushed me and took my scooter!"

Micheal got mad and tackled the other boy. He punched him in the face a couple of times before letting him up. "Leave my brother alone!"

The boy ran off down the street, back the way he'd come. Tory smiled and jumped to his feet. "Thank you, Micheal," he said hugging his older brother. "You helped me, even if I'm too small."

Micheal frowned, feeling guilty. "Just because you're small doesn't mean you're not my little brother."

"Thank you anyways."

"I'll protect you," Micheal promised.

"Really?"

"Always."

**Age 6**  
Troy smiled as his dad cut his birthday cake.

"Micheal!" his mom called. "Hurry up!"

"Coming!" Micheal shouted, running down the hall. He stopped I front of Tory and handed him a small box. "Happy Birthday."

Troy grinned as he opened it. "Wow," he said taking out a red hemp bracelet. "Cool. Thanks, Micheal."

"I made it so that you can always remember me," Micheal said; tying it around his younger brother's wrist.

Troy grinned. "I could never forget about you."

**Age 8**  
John smiled as he watched Troy hang his martial arts medal on the wall. He was so proud of his son.

"Dad, am I going to be really good at fighting lie you and Micheal?" Troy asked.

John sighed and sat down so he was at his son's level. "Troy, first, martial arts isn't about fighting. It's about discipline, and protecting others. Second, if you work hard, and really like it, you will be very good. Maybe even better than me or Micheal."

"I hope so!" Tory said excitedly.

John smiled and pulled his son into a hug. He picked him up and threw him on his bed, a little gently, and he tickled him mercilessly. Troy laughed and kicked his feet; squealing in happiness.

"Dad! Dads stop!"

"Stop?" he asked teasingly. "Stop?!"

"Yes!" Tory laughed. "Dad!"

"Ok," he said stopping. He knelt by his son's bed.

Tory was out of breath and smiling. "I love you Dad."

"I love you too son."

**Age 11**  
Tory laughed as his dad put an arm around his shoulders. "My amazing boys," John said, wrapping his other arm around Micheal.

"You boys did so well," Angela said.

"I say we celebrate with ice cream," John said.

"Dad, we're still in training," Micheal said. "We want to be ready for the state tournaments. Right, Troy?"

"Yeah," Troy said, ready to go along with anything his brother said.

"Are you sure?" John asked. "I think you'd like a triple-chocolate-whip-sundae from Frotsy's."

Micheal bit his lip. "Um...one ice cream won't hurt."

His parents laughed. "You got that right," John said. The family of four walked down the sidewalk; streetlights lighting their way. Troy never worried when he walked the streets at night. He knew just a bit more than just a little self-defense; as did his brother and both his parents. He walked proudly and care-free, swinging the arm that held his dad's hand.

As they passed a shady doorway, something grabbed his arm and ripped him away from his dad. He gasped. "Dad!" Before he could attempt to get away some one out an arm around his neck. He became paralyzed by fear as he felt the barrel of a gun pressing against his temple. He saw the terrified look on Micheal's face. His parents looked scared, but in control. "Give me all your money," the man holding him said. "Now!" He cocked the hammer. Tory's breath hitched.

"Ok, ok," John said. Slowly, he reached into his picket and took out his wallet. Angela did the same, gaining it to her husband. "See? It's all we have."

"Your watch too!"

"Ok." John undid the clasp on his watch and set it down half way between them and the man. The man jumped a little and pressed the gun harder into Troy's temple. The young boy yelped. Micheal squeezed his mother's hand. "We gave you what you want. Now please let him go."

The thief was breathing heavily. Before anyone could do anything, Troy decided to y and escape. He jerked and kicked at the man.

"Troy no!" John shouted. Too late.

Shots rang out, and Troy dove to the ground. He hid behind a box, hoping to remain unseen. He heard the thief runaway down the street. It remained deserted for a few seconds, and Troy came out. He gasped when he saw his parents and brother. All three of them were lying in a pool of blood that was growing by the second. Troy called forward and almost fell into the blood in his haste.

His dad was staring up at the sky with glassy eyes; a bullet wound in his chest. His mom was draped over his dad, a bullet wound in her back. He had a rising feeling of vomit in his stomach. He looked at his brother, and was relieved when he fish he was still breathing. "Micheal," he whispered, his voicing echoing in his ears.

Micheal moaned. His eyes fluttered open. Troy saw he had a bullet wound in his stomach. Blood spattered his white gi; soiling both the boys' uniforms. "T-Troy..." he whispered tiredly. "Troy, hide."

"But, you need help."

"Hide in case he comes back."

"I'm so sorry Micheal."

"It's ok. It's not your fault."

"I wish I could've protected you."

"You couldn't control it." Micheal coughed as blood started to come out of his mouth. "I...love you little brother."

"Micheal I-"

"Hide."

Tory nodded and his himself in the shadows behind a large box. Tears dripped down his face. He felt as of they took his life; like the blood pooling from his family.

**Age 14**  
"Where you going?" someone asked Troy after class.

"To practice my martial arts," Troy answered.

"Why?" his classmate scoffed. "You always do that. Why don't you do show thing fun?"

"I find it fun."

"I mean something with other people."

"Because...I just have too."

"Whatever," the boy said rolling his eyes. "Have fun by yourself, loser."

Troy turned away and walked off down the hall. He ignored the aad feeling inside of him. It was hard for him to make friends because he spent most of his time training. He made his way to the community youth center where there was an open gym ns dojo. He threw his bag in the corner and changed in the lockers. He started doing his warm-ups, trying to state focused. The past three years had been hell. He had just been moved to his third foster home. He didn't want to be there.

No one, not the numerous counselors and therapists he'd been forced to talk to; his classmates at various schools; teachers; or even foster families understood his situation. They didn't understand his obsessive need to practice martial arts. They didn't understand why he didn't like to walk at night, or why he jumped at every bang.

_"It's stupid being scared of fireworks," Thomas, Troy's foster bother said. "Don't be a baby."_

_"Maybe if you focused less on being antisocial and more on making friends, you'd fit in better."_

_"Try talking about that night. After all if was three years ago. You should be able to talk about it."_

Troy hit the punching bag he'd moved to with every thought. _I'll never talk about it, _he thought. _Never. No one will are. They'll just blame me for what happened. They'll say I got my family killed._ He touched the hemp bracelet on his wrist briefly. He punched and kicked the bag even harder, trying to force the years away.

**Age 17**  
Troy played with his fingers nervously as he sat in the front seat of the car. His social worker, Kyla, was taking him to his adopted family. "You're very lucky to be adopted when you're almost an adult," she said.

"I know," Tory said.

"Don't look so scared. They soared through the back round checks with flying colors. They'll love you. We paired them up with you especially."

Tory nodded. He swallowed as they pulled up to a house. He got out and grabbed his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. He followed Kyla up the steps of the house. It was pretty much a cookie-cutter house in your average cookie-cutter-neighborhood. Kyle knocked on the door. It opened a second later. Tory peered over her shoulder and saw a girl who appeared to be no older than seven. She smiled at them. "Hi!"

A man came up behind her. "Hi, Kyla. Good to see you again. Come on in." He held the door open as Kyla and Troy walked in. "And you must be Troy. Nice to meet you. I'm Clyde Burrows." Zach shook his hand hesitantly. He noticed the girl was snooping around his bag. "Shirley!"

A woman came down the stairs, smiling. "About time. You must be Troy." She walked over and hugged him, much to his dismay. "Sorry, I'm an affectionate I making you uncomfortable?" Troy nodded a little. "Sorry. I'm Shirley Burrows by the way."

"I'm Suzie!" the little girl said bounding up and down.

She stood in front of Clyde and he put his arms around her. "Yes, she's a very energetic person as well."

"Do you like video games?"

"I...I've never played any," Troy said slowly.

"I can show you! It's lots of fun!"

Shirley smiled. "Suzie dear, why don't you show Troy to his room?"

"Ok!" Troy grabbed his bag and Suzie grabbed his hand. "Come on! I'll show you the way!" Troy smiled a little as she led him up then stairs. They walked down the hall and she pushed a door open. "This is your room," she said. "Mom and Dad got it ready just for you. I helped too!"  
Troy smiled and set his bag on the bed. It had a red bed spread and pillows. There was a dresser, as well as shelves, toe red bean bag chairs, and a tv on a stand. It had two windows that looked over the street with nice blinds and red curtains.

"Whats that?" Suzie asked, pointing to his wrist.

"It's a bracelet," he said showing it to her. "it reminds me of someone very special who went away a long time ago."

"Oh," she said. "Ok."

Troy nodded and went to look at his dresser. About twenty minutes later, as he was examining his closet, someone cleared their throat behind him. He turned around and saw that Suzie had slipped out without him noticing, but Kyla was there. "Lots of red."

"Yeah," Troy nodded.

"I should be getting back," she said. "Don't blow this Troy. You won't get any better than this."

"They can't get rid of me now that they've adopted me, can they?"

"You never know," Kyla smiled. "Have fun."

"Bye Kyla. Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome."

She left and Tory sat down on his bed. Clyde came in a couple of minutes later. "Hope this isn't too much red."

"No, it's great."

"Kyla had told us it was your favorite color, so we used that to design your room.

"It's great thanks."

"She told us you like material arts too. I heard you had lost of awards, so I thought we'd hang them up somewhere."

"Thanks."

"The rest of your things are downstairs."

"Great."

"I'll help you being them up."

"Thanks Clyde."

"No problem. And hey," he put his hand in Troy's shoulder. "Welcome to the family."

**A couple of days later**  
Troy tossed and turned in his bed. He screamed in fear. "Mom! Dad! Micheal!"

Clyde turned the light on and Shirley came to his bed. "Troy," she said gently, rubbing his back. "Troy, wake up dear. It's ok. It's just a dream." Troy awake suddenly, breathing heavily.

"It's ok," Clyde said. "It was just a bad dream."

"Sorry," Troy said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's ok," Shirley said smiling. "You can't help having nightmares."

Tory nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for coming to check on me."

"It's fine," Clyde said. "That's what we're here for."

"You going to be ok?" Shirley asked.

"Yeah," Troy lied. "I'll be ok. Sorry again. I know this is the third time it's happened."

"It's fine dear. Are you sure you'll be ok?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Ok, good night."

"Night Troy," Clyde said. They left and Troy rubbed his neck. Ha door wow owns again. He looked and saw Suzie in her nightgown. "Hey."

"Troy, are you ok?"

"Yeah," he said as she sat crossed-legged on his bed. "I just had a bad dream. Did I wake you up?" She nodded. "Sorry."

"It's ok. What was you dream about?"

"Something bad that happened to me a long time ago."

"Oh. Are you ok now?"

"Not really," he said.

"Oh. What here." She hopped off the bad and ran out of the room. Troy smiled as he waited patiently for her. She came back and turns ships light off. She put something on his beside table and pushed a button. A circle of stars and planets lit up on the ceiling. She crawled into the bed with him. Is that better?"

"Yes," he said. "It's a little better."

"Here," she handed him a small charm. It was made of plastic and had a sloppy rainbow painted on it. "I made this for you. To protect you and help you."

"Thank you, Suzie," Tory said closing his hand around it. "I love it."

She grinned. "It'll be ok Troy," Suzie said as he pulled the blankets over the two of them. "Mommy and Daddy say that you've seen a bad thing. But you're really nice. That means the bad thing will go away."

"Think so?"

"Uh huh. Just like the super heroes in my story books. The prince always feet as the veil queen. Good guys alway win."

Tory smiled. It was this child innocence that he'd been missing for a while. It had been years since he'd thought that good would triumph over evil. Soon Suzie fell asleep next to him. He looked at the charm in the dim light. He felt a strange happiness coming over him. He moved on from his tragedy, yes. But there was a difference between moving on and living on. He hadn't been able to heal completely, because he hasn't felt understood or loved. But now was different.

Clyde and Shirley didn't get made when he had nightmares that woke them up in the middle of the night. They repeated his space, and the fact he didn't want to talk about the past. They'd welcomed him into their home and given him unconditional love. He looked down at Suzie who had already thought him how to play her favorite video game. He looked at the charm, and immediately thought of all the good things this family was bringing him. He set it down on his bedstead and tuned over, falling asleep.

The next day he tied it down to his bracelet. He wore it everywhere, so he would be reminded of that newfound peace and innocence. He even wore it two weeks after he'd been adopted and attended his first day of school at Harwood County High School. He was wearing it when he found himself having, for once, a new dream on the bus. He was wearing it when he was given the opportunity to do good and redeem himself in his own eyes. He'd been told by many people, by Clyde and Shirley even, that it hand then his fault. And some part of him knew and accepted that.

The criminal had been responsible for killing Troy's family; even if he'd never been caught. But he still felt that nagging, and guilty feeling. But when he was training in the woods, haunting with his friends, or playing with Suzie, he felt like he was with his bother again. And when he fought in battle, trying to save the world, he felt close to his family. They'd been a family fighters, and experts in self-defense. On helping others and protecting people. And that was what he was going to do.

As the months and war wore on, Troy got better. The nightmare became less frequent, and he started talking to Clyde about the past. The farther along her got, he realized he would be ok. He had a new family that loved him and looked faster him; and he had a great group of for ends that did the same thing. After feeling so lost and alone for years, it was the best thing he could've ever asked for.


	2. Emma

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer. I own nothing

_*Italic indicates thought_

Chapter Two: Emma

"The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can run from it, or learn from it." -Rafiki; The Lion King

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. Thanks for all the reviews and follows. I was a little unsure about this story. Please keep it up! Thanks! And Happy Thanksgiving!

**Age 2**  
Jane Goodall laughed as she watched her daughter run around the living room. "Emma dear," she said. "Be careful."

"Mama!" Emma laughed. "Mama!"

"Emma, let me finish watching these dishes," her mother said. "Joel, can you play with Emma until I'm done? Joel!" She turned the water off and dried her hands. "Joel!" She stopped when she saw her husband standing in the living room. He looked at her seriously. "I'm leaving, Jane."

"What? Why?"

"I'm sorry. You haven't been looking good lately. We both knew what that means,"

"Joel," Jane said walking over; putting her hands on his chest. "I'm got in to be fine. Just like-"

"Like the last time? Or the time after that? Jane this will never be over. I'm sorry, but I can't stand here and watch the woman I love die like this."

"What about Emma?"

He looked at his daughter who stopped running around at this point and was watching her parents. "I'm not taking her with me."

"So, you're just going to leave us?"

"I'm sorry." He hugged her and have her one last kiss on the cheek. He walked towards the door were his bags were waiting.

"Dada!" Emma yelled running after him. "Dada, pway?"

"No Emma," he said coming down to her level. "Dada loves you, ok?" He gave her a kiss on the forehead, and took one last heartbreaking look at her beautiful dark eyes.

Jane came over and picked her daughter up and retreated with her. Joel shook his head sadly as he grabbed his coat and bags. He shut the door behind him, leaving his daughter and wife in his past. Jane felt tears drip down her face one by one. She wiped them away. Emma put her hand on her mother's cheek. "Mama, where dada go?"

"Dada's going away. On a trip."

"I wanna pway wif him."

"I know you do, baby. How about we play with your ponies?"

Emma laughed and nodded. "Yea! Yea!"

**Age 5**

Emma sat on the swings, not wanting to play with anyone. Not that she had any friends to play with anyways.

"Get off!" a girl shouted, pushing her off the swing.

Emma fell into he wooden pellets. She stood up and brushed her hands and knees off. "Give me back that swing, Brittney. I was there first!"

"Too bad."

Emma walked away sulkily. She sat down by the fence, in the flowers. She smiled and brushed her hands gently over the white pedals. She jerked her hand back when a ball landed in front of her, crushing the flowers. She iced the ball up and stood up. Another girl from her class came running up. "That's my ball!"

"Here!" Emma threw it to her.

The girl caught it. She stuck her tongue out at Emma before going back to her game. She shook her head and sat down with the flowers again.

Emma watched as girl named Gia pushed Brittney off what had been Emma's swing. Brittney tried to push Gia off, but it didn't work. Gia kicked Brittney in the face as she swung forward. Brittney ran off to get the teacher. Emma frowned. She didn't approve of Gia kicking her, but Brittney was a bully. She ran to the swings just as Britney came back other the teacher.

"She kicked me!"

"I did not!"

"Ok, children," their teacher said. "What happened?"

"Britney pushed me off the swing," Emma said quickly. Everyone looked at her. "Gia came over and made Britney get off. I let her go on since she was nice, and Britney got in the way."

"Is that true?"

Gia nodded. "Yup."

"Is not! She's lying!"

"Britney, Emma has never lied to a teacher. You, however, have. Lets go take you to the principal."

Britney looked back at them. "I'll get you for this."

Gia stuck her tongue out at her. She looked back at Emma and smiled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I'm Gia Moran."

"Emma Goodall."

"Nice to meet you Emma. You wanna push me, then I'll push you?"

"Sure."

**Age 7**

Emma smiled pleasantly, and happily, as she held her mother's hand. Her mom had been so tired lately, Emma was happy to have some time with her. They found a clearing full of flowers, birds, small animals, and grass. Emma's mom spread the blanket out on the ground. "This place is beautiful, isn't it, sweetie?"

"Yeah," Emma said. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"I have something I want to talk to you about sweetie," she said. Jane took a deep breath. "You know that I went to the doctor yesterday."

Emma nodded. "Are you sick?"

"Yes. Emma baby," she took her daughter's hand. Emma looked her in the eyes. "My doctor told me that the treatments didn't work."

"They-they didn't?"

"No baby."

"So, are you going to have a different treatment?"

"No. My leukemia has spread to far. I'm afraid there's nothing the doctor can do."

Emma felt her eyes water up. "No! There has to be something else mom."

"I wish there was baby," she said, brushing her fingers through Emma's hair. "I wish there was."

"I don't want you to die," Emma sobbed.

Her mother pulled her into an embrace. "Me nether baby. Me nether."

**Later that night**

Emma sat in her bed in her room. She was still crying quietly, holding a pink bunny her mom had given her when she was small. So own knocked on her door. "Come in."

Jane came in smiling. "Hey, sweetie."

"Hey."

Her mom sat down on her bed. "This drawing is pretty," she said.

Emma smiled a little. "Thanks. It's one of my dreams. My naive dreams." She got up, tearing the paper in half as she did.

"Emma," her mom said getting. "Your dreams aren't naive." She picked up the torn pieces.

"They are. It was silly to think that you would be cured. That you'd be ok."

"No baby," she said. She hugged her daughter; the two of them lowering to the ground. "It wasn't silly. Look at me." Emma lifted her face so she could look her mother in the eyes. "I never want you to give up on a dream. No matter how big, small, impractical, or serious. Because your dreams are what helped us all these years. I want you to remember a believe in every dream you can think of. In fact, I want you to make a list of your dreams. I want you to make almost, so you can make every one of them come true. Ok?"

"Ok," Emma said resting her head against her mother's chest.

"Promise?" Jane kissed her on the top of the head.

Emma closed her eyes; letting the sound of her mother's fragile heart clam her. "Promise."

**Age 8**  
The numb feeling that filled Emma as her grandmother put an arm around her was suffocating. Emma thought that she'd die with the emptiness filling her. She wished that there was something she could do to get rid of it. "Gran," she said looking at her grandmother. "I can't do this."

"Ok, angel. Why don't you go ou back for a little while?"

Emma nodded and left the reception in the living room. She sat on the back steps of the porch. She took a tissue out of the pocket of her black dress and pressed it against her eyes. The door opened behind her and someone sat next to her.

"Hey," Gia said quietly.

"Hey," Emma said.

"Nice reception."

"I guess."

"Em," Gia said taking her hand. "I can't imagine what you must be going through. Your mom was an amazing person. She was just like you. Sweet; kind; tree-hugger." Emma laughed. "She was like a second mother to me. And after how dysfunctional mine is, it was nice to be treated like a child."

"I thought you hated being treated like a kid."

"I do. But it's nice sometimes."

Emma nodded, starting to cry again. "I just miss her so much."

"I know," Gia said. She wrapped an arm around Emma and pulled her close. Emma put her head on her best friend's shoulder. "It'll be ok."

"I hope so."

"It will. I'll be here for you. So will your Gran."

Emma smiled a little. Gia wasn't someone who was good with her emotions; but this was something Emma knew she'd done for her. She frowned when she saw the bruises on Gia's wrist peeking out from under her black sleeve. "Thanks G."

"Any time Em."

**Age 11**  
"Come on Gia, you should do it!"

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because, I'm not pretty like you."

"That as not true," Emma protested. "Every girl is beautiful. Like Cinderella."

Gia rolled her eyes. "That as certainly what my life feels like most days."

"Then this will be fun! Please, Gia?"

Gia sighed. She looked at the yellow dress Emma was holding. "I don't even like dresses."

"I know, but its only be once."

"And if I say yes it'll be more than once."

"Please?!"

Gia looked at the picture tapped to Emma's vanity mirror. It was of her and her mother a couple of months before she died. Emma and her mother had usually gone to the Harwood County Beauty Pageant together; but this year, with Emma's grandmother her guardian, Emma would have to go alone. Unless Gia greed to go with her. She looked at the lost tacked to Emma's wall. She knew winning the beauty pageant for her mom was on that list. If they did it together they would have a good chance.

She looked again at the dress Emma was holding. It was a wonderful shade of yellow that Gia knew she could pull off. But it was sleeveless, and she tried to avoid things like that. It would even show her shoulders. She thought about the purple-blue-yellow bruises on her shoulders and back. "I'll do it," she standing.

"Really?!"

"Yes." _Nothing cover-up can't fix,_ she thought at the smile on Emma's face.

Emma hugged her. "Yay! This is going to be so much fun! You wait and see!"

**Age 14**  
"Emma," Gran said walking up to her. "Aren't you going to the dance?"

"Not really," she admitted.

"I thought you liked dances."

"I do, but its a Mother's Day dance."

"I see." Her grandmother sat next to her on the steps. "And you don't have a mom to go with?"

"Exactly." A few tears slipped down her cheek. "Mom and I went every year. Now I can't go anymore."

"Sweetie," she said. "Come on. I have a wonderful idea."

An hour later Emma foun herself in the clearing with trees just starting to blossom. "I hate it here."

"Hate it? Emma-bean, this was your favorite place when you were little."

"This is where...where she told me."

"Ah I see." Her grandmother looked up. "The trees are starting to blossom."

Emma glanced up. "I guess."

Her grandmother smiled and started to braid her hair. "La, la, la, la, la, la," she began to sing softly; her fingers weaving Emma's dark hair. "The gentle breeze; stirs the leaves and stirs my soul; my heart deep inside me; sense my worth as one with Earth; as greater whole, all connected as one." She squeezed Emma's shoulders affectionately.

Emma smiled the first real smile she'd concocted in days.

"So bloom, bloom, and share your sweet perfume. Flowers bloom, bloom. La, la, la, la, la, la."

"La, la, la la, la, la, la."

Her grandmother smiled. "La, la, la, la, la, la."

"Flowers bloom, bloom; and share your sweet perfume. Flowers bloom, bloom, la, la, la, la, la, la, la." Emma sang gladly; her voice drifting on the wind and carrying through the empty forest around them.

"The gentle breeze; stirs the leaves and stirs my soul; my heart deep inside me; sense my worth with one as earth; as greater whole, all connect as one." Emma and her grandmother sang together, their voice melding together. Emma had never thought she'd be doing this again. Her mother, grandmother, and herself would always come and song on Mother's Day.

The tradition seemed silly, not having her mom there to enjoy it with them. But now, she saw it wasn't. All the things she used to enjoy with her mother: the songs, dancing, nature, dreaming, watching the clouds and stars…they were all still there. She thought of her list of dreams hanging on her wall. That seemed silly, but it wasn't. There was nothing wrong with seeing the beauty in things. On singing a song to the trees. And in that song, in that moment, Emma found she was dreaming of fulfilling her mom's greatest dream of protecting the world.

And it was this dream that she made her own vendetta. It was this dream that made her happy to accept her role as the pink ranger with pride. She sang her family's song of love, and spring time to defeat a monster. She only sang for her grandmother normally. She wanted to protect the world; and everyone in it. So others wouldn't have to know the pain of losing someone you loved. She would always love her mom. She would always remember her; and she would never forget to dream. Both big and small.


	3. Noah

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer. I own nothing

_*Italic indicates thought_

Chapter Three: Noah

"The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can run from it, or learn from it." -Rafiki; The Lion King

A/N: hey guys! Here's the next chapter! Thanks for all the reviews and follows! They make me so happy! You have no idea! Please keep reviewing!

**Age 2**

Adelene Carver barely had time to register the fact her son was trying to get her attention. "Not now, Noah," she sighed. "I'm late for work as it is."

"Why not taking him with you?" Robert Carver suggested.

"He's too young to come to the lab with me," she answered. "Take him with you today. It's your day, anyways."

"Alright. Noah!"

Noah smiled and held his arms up. "Up! Up!"

"Now, Noah," his dad said beinding down on one knee. "You don't say, 'up, up'. You say, pick me up please?"

" 'ick me up, pwease!" Noah said excitedly.

"Close enough," his dad smiled, picking him up.

"You baby him too much," Adelene said. "He'll never be smart if you give him all the answers."

"He's a toddler," Robert replied, grabbing Noah's small backpack.

"And he's going to be smart," his wife replied.

Router rolled his eyes and handed the bag to Noah, setting him down. "Here son, put this on."

Noah nodded excitedly and slipped his small arms through the straps. "I ready!"

"It's I'm ready."

"I'm ready!"

"Very good," Robert said nodding. He grabbed Noah's hand and led him to the car.

"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, turning and waving.

"Bye, Noah," she said absentmindedly, already absorbed in a report.

Noah smiled and hopped into his dad's car. "Lets go Daddy!"

"Ok."

**Age 4**  
"Don't be scared," Noah's mom said. "You're a smart boy. Academically, you'll be just fine."

Noah wanted to tell his mom we wasn't worried about academics. He was worried about the fact that the other kids were bigger than him, and older. "But, I've never played with kids before."

"Your father has taken you to the work before."

"Yeah."

"Noah."

"I-I mean, yes. Sorry Mom."

"Remember, if you want to be the best, you have to speak like the best."

"Yes Mom." Noah said as they pulled up to the school. "Bye. Love you." He kissed her on the cheek and hopped out of the car. His mom smiled and nodded as she pulled away. Noah looked back at the car with longing. He didn't want to be here. He took a deep breath and walked onto the playground. Kids laughed and shoved each other around as they played. Noah stumbled back when two boys ran past him. He got up and decided to find someone to socalize with.

He saw a couple of boys playing with a soccer ball. He walked closer; carefully like he was approaching a lion. He stood on the sideline and watched them. The ball got kicked towards him and rolled to his feet.

"Hey!" Noah looked up. A boy with black hair waved his hands. "Kick it back!"

Noah looked at the ball, then gave it a kick. The effect was immediate and embarrassing. He fell on his back as he tripped, and the ball only moved a couple feet. The other kids laughed at him. Noah got to his feet, cheeks burning. One of the kids came over and grabbed the ball. He shoved Noah to the ground before going back to the game.

"Who invited the baby?" the black haired boy asked.

Noah walked away sadly and sat with his back against the fence. He pulled a book out of his bag and read until the bell rang.

**Age 7**

"Hey, Dork!"

Noah looked up. "Uh oh." He quickly shoved his book in his bag and tried to get away. No such luck. "Hey!" he said when his bag was ripped off his back. Reached for it, but his adversary held it out of his arm's reach, and kept pushing him back. "Give it back Jake!"

"Why?" Jake asked teasingly. He swung the bag on its strap and threw it into the branches of the tree above them. "Have fun shrimp!" He pushed Noah to the ground before rejoining his friends.

Noah picked his glasses up off the ground and scowled after him. The boys high-fived each other and walked off, tossing a soccer ball between them. Noah looked up at his bag. He wasn't tall enough to reach it. He jumped, even though he knew it was useless. He decided he'd have to climb the fence to get it. He grabbed on to the chain-link and pulled himself up. His arms and legs shook as he reached she top. He stood precariously, still not tell enough to reach his bag. He wobbled as he reached. "Ah!" He fell to the ground and put his arms out to break his fall.

He hit the ground hard, landing on his face. He heard a sharp crack! and laughing. He picked his head up and saw Jake coming over through his broken glasses. "Hahaha. Nice one, nerd."

Noah shook with shame and sadness. Not only had he fallen off the fence, but he hasn't gotten his bag back. "Leave me alone!"

"Make me!' Jake replied, picking him up by the front if his shirt. Noah didn't say anything. "Yeah." Jake shoved Nowh back to the ground. "That's what I thought."

**Age 11**  
It was bad enough Noah's peers didn't like him, but did they have to hide his things? He searched, what he felt was in vain, for his books. He sighed in frustration as he looked behind a bookshelf. He pulled put on of his books on evolutionary theories. He put it back in his bag and stood up. The classroom was empty, all the other kids having gone out to recess earlier. Noah could hear the sound of them playing and laughing. _Recess in middle school, _he thought. _This is why the general intellengce is declining._

He left the empty room and headed for the library. He didn't want it go outside. Going outside would mean facing "dodgeball", getting pushed down a lot, and sitting by himself in a corner. Atleast inside he cousl read a book while he sat alone in a corner. As he walked he thought about the conversation he'd had with his mom earlier-

_"Mom," Noah said. "I really think that transferring to a public school, feather than continuing in a government funded, public school would be better for my education."_

_"Noah," his mom sighed. "We've discussed this before. And I don't have time to debate with you again. Your father and I think you'll get a better experience with social situations, and a better standing with those with lesser intellengce."_

_"But-"_

_"Noah! Stop arguing! The answer is no! I'm late now! Don't forget about your extra lessons." With that his mom rushed out the door, leaving her son to face another day of torment._

Noah sat down in a chair off in the corner, and opened up a book. His parents would be extra to upset with him if he didn't finish the book by the end of the day. He was supposed to make it through atleast seven books a week to keep his reading level high. _People who read more can think more,_ he thought. It seemed like the only reason they had time to talk to him was to reminded him of online lesson he had to do, or to quiz him on what he'd read that week. _Its like they don't even care. Not about me. Just my grades._

**Age 13**  
Tears threatened to come out as Noah dupmed the ruins of his favorite book into the trash. He wiped his eyes quickly, hoping no one had seen him. _I don't have much, _he thought. _My parents never pay attention to me, I don't have friends. I have books. Books and facts. Ever that isn't important to them._ He rubbed his arm silently. It was still plenty bruised from when he'd been beaten up earlier. It matched the numerous other ones he'd gotten from kids who picked on him everyday.

"Every, single day," he whispered. "Everyday they intimidate me violently, and vandalize my things. Everyday!" He walked slowly towards his locker. It didn't make sense to him. _Why do they harass me because I'm smart? Why is it bad that I like to read rather then play sports? I've never played sports before. _He'd asked himself these questions a million times, and he never had an answer. Every time it was always, that's just the way it is. "It's barbaric," he said. "These, phillistines don't know anything some frivolous pop singer tells them."

He expend his locked and looked inside. _Guess its time._ He started to take out his grainy pictures of Nessie, aliens, and the stars. His stimulating hobbies his parents didn't know about. They'd never approve of their son supporting something so unproven and ridiculous in nature. But it was the mysterious nature of these things that drew Noah in. He took all the books out and stacked them on the ground next to him. _I can't do this._ He caught sight of himself in a piece of metal. The bruises on his face stood out on his dark skin. _I can,_ he thought calling his locker. _I just can't do this anymore._

His picked up his books, with much difficulty and headed for the exit. As he left the school his mind wandered through everything. All the taunting, teasing, isolating, beatings, and Linley ness that had led to this. He was sudsy tripped when someone ran past and pushed him to the ground. He dropped all hi books as he fell on the ground. _Typical,_ he thought miserably. _They won't even miss me._ He started to collect all his things. His eyes widened when a hand reached out and picked up one of his books. He looked up and saw someone he hadn't in a while. "Jake," he said. "What-what're you doing here? I thought you moved."

"Naw," Jake replied shaking his head. "I was just- well it's a long story."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Here,Miley me give you hand with these." Jake helped Noah pick up his books. "You live down the stree from me. Right?"

"Yeah, still do." _You would know. You've pushed me off the sidewalk enough times up and down the street._

"Great. We can walk home. Here, I'll help you carry these." Jake took half the stack. "Man, what the hell are you studying?!"

"Some of these are fun reading."

"My idea of fun reading is comics."

Noah just nodded. As they walked home he was waiting for Jake to trip him, or drop all the books on his foot. "So, where've you been?"

Jake shrugged. "Everywhere and nowhere. What about you? Been watching any good up tv lately?"

"No. I'm not allowed to watch tv."

"What?! That's crazy."

"My parents always said tv isn't conplmetary to a growing mind."

"I see. Well, played any good sports?"

"I don't participate in physical activities. My parents prefer me to excersise my brain."

"Alrighty then. Well, what do you do?"

"I study for school, and for online course I'm taking. I read on average between the and twelve books per week."

"Sweet!" They reached Noah's house and Jake handed the books back. "Here, your sake theses and I'll open the door for you."

"Thank you," Noah said confused. Jake opened the door for him and Noah set the books down just inside. "Jake."

"Yeah?"

"Would it be inappropriate for me to aka you something?"

"No, deepening on the question. I guess we'll see though, ask away!"

"Why did you help me?"

"Oh. Well see, the thing about that is-"

"Is this some kind of practical joke?"

"No! I mean...look. I'm sorry about all the shit I put you through when we were kids. I know it wasn't cool. I've grown up a lot on the last few years, and I just.. I know that this apology probably doesn't get anywhere close to making it up to you. But I hope it helps a bit."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Hey, maybe I'll see you again tomorrow morning and we can walk to school together?"

"Yes," Noah said nodding.

"Great. See you then." Jake waved good-bye and continued down the street towards his own home.

Noah shut the door and leaned against it. He felt conflicted. (He's sorry.) it was a twist of fate he never could've predicted. "He cares," Noah whispered. "He cares." Maybe there was hope after all.

**The Next Day**

Jake knocked on Noah's door and smiled when he saw him. "Hey man. Ready?"

"I am indeed."

"You go them books again! Dude, you're gonna be buff by the end of the year!" Jake once again took half the stack.

"You don't have to-"

"Chil man. I can't let you carry all of the by yourself. Lets go! I wanna beat a couple of kids in a scrimmage this morning."

"Soccer. You play that right."

"Yup. I can teach you sometime."

"I think I'm well last the age of being able to develop coordination or athletic ability."

"No! You're never to old to learn a sport."

"If you say so."

"I do man. I really do."

**Age 15**

"Nerd!" someoen said snatching Noah's glasses.

"Grieg those back!" Noah said reaching for them. "I can't see without them!"

"Come an get 'em, dork!"

Noah could barely see who it was, but he could see their blurry figure. "Give them back!" His hands an tied out at thin air.

"Hey!" Jake said upon seeing the situation. He ran up to the kid and shoved him. "Give those back! Now!"

"Make me, brat!"

Jake wanted more than anything to punch this punk. He remembered what Noah was always telling him though, about thinking things through. He decided not to do something to get him suspended. "Just give them back."

"Fine." The kid snapped the in half and threw them at Jake who coaghf them. "Here! Later losers!"

"You ok?" Jake asked Noah. He held the two halves of the broken glasses up to his best friend's face.

"I've been better."

"Yeah, probably. We can parable tape these together."

"Don't bother. Someone will see it and tear the apart again. Besides, I have an extra pair in my locker."

"Great. Here," he hand the two halves to Noah. "I'll guide you to your locker."

"Thank you."

"Don't worry about them," Jake added.

"I never said-"

"Yiudidnt need to man. You're a million times smarter than them. Ans you knew what they say, be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll be working for one someday."

"So you're saying I rally am a nerd?"

"Yeah, btu tis not a bad thing. Dude, you have a passion for learning. Wether it was forced upon you at a young age or not, I think it's great you love science and all that was much as you do."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Promise me you'll show off that big brain of yours every chance you get. Be the s attest guy in the world! Because I know you love knowledge."

"I do enjoy it."

"See! Just stick it out. You'll see, everything will be better someday."

"Someday."

What Jake didn't know was that someday was already here. He was Noah's first and only friend. His whole life, now one stood up for him. No cared, and all the intellengce in the world couldn't change that, or make it better. He hadn't been able to stand the constant bombardment of harassment. It was the single moment, when Jake apologized and helped Noah carry his things that he realized people weren't all bad. They weren't all uncaring and stupid. They could be kind. Noah knew that ought now was s someday. Jake stood up for Noah, and defend him. They walked everyday together, and talked about everything. Noah helped Jake do his homework, and Jake thought another about non-academic things.

Noah had strated school early, and at a youg age, and that has always speretaed him from his peers. Jake gave Noah the encouragement that he needed to do anyhting. He came to spelling bees and scholastic decathalons, just to see Noah wipe the floor with the other kids. Noah in turn attended Jake's soccer games, Dan later asked questions from a scientific point of view. There was hope for people, but most of all for Noah. It was the hope given to him by a hand picking up his book, that Noah looked for when being a ranger got tough. Wits beyond measure might be man's greatest treasure, but friendship and hope would always be Noah's jewls and diamonds.


	4. Gia

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer. I own nothing

_*Italic indicates thought_

Chapter Four: Gia

A/N: hey guys! I know that it's been a while for this story. Hope this chapter's worth the wait! Please review!

"The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can run from it, or learn from it." -Rafiki; The Lion King

**Age 3**  
Gia sighed as she looked up from her coloring. "Mom! I'm hungry! Mom!" She got up and walked towards the the living room. Her family lived in a small, one room house that was run down. It had a small, generally unclean bathroom, and a kitchen and living room, that were separated by a counter. She found her mom passed out on the couch, a liquor bottle hanging from one hand. "Mom!" she shook her. "Mom!"

"Huh! Oh, Gia. Go away. Mommy has a headache and is trying to sleep."

"But Mom, I'm hungry."

"Not now!" her mom groaned throwing an arm over her head.

"But-"

"Gia I said no!"

"Please- ow!" Gia jumped back suddenly when she felt something hit her across the face. One side of her small face was stinging and sore from the impact. She stared at her mom with wide eyes. The woman simply tuned over and went back to sleep. Gia turned and ran from the room. She went back to her own and shut the door, quietly, behind her. She sat with her back against it, arms wrapped around her knees. She gingerly touched the sore area, wincing as she did. She started shaking, and soon she started crying.

All she'd wanted was something to eat. Instead she'd gotten yelled at and hit. _That's not fair,_ she thought. He face was really hurting, especially since she was so young. She got up and opened her door, peeking out to see if her mom was still asleep. She was. Gia went to this bathroom and shut the door behind her. She pushed the stool over to the sink and stepped up on it. She looked in the cracked mirror. There was a large bruise forming on her cheek. She touched it, fascinated by the colors. It was the first time she'd ever gotten a bruise, but Uknown, and unfathomed by her young mind, it wouldn't be the last.

**Age 6**  
"Gia!" Miles Moran yelled. "Gia get out here!"

Gua peeked put from her bedroom door. She approached her father cautiously, hands behind her back, trying to look innocent. "Yes Daddy?"

"Did you break this window?" he asked, motioning to the hole in the kitchen window.

Gia shook her head. "No Daddy."

He tightened his fist. "Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not! You broke it!"

"How dare you!" he snarled, grabbing her arm and jerking her closer. "Disrespectful little witch!"

"But its the truth!" Gia insisted. "You did it when you were drinking. You got mad at the window and threw something through it."

"I don't remember that! And I would remember if I broke something."

"But-ow!" Gia cried out in pain when her dad punched her in the stomach.

"Tell the truth!"

"I am!"

"Stop lying to me!" Her father threw her into the wall and held her there. Gia cried out in pain again.

"Daddy, please! Stop!

"Tell me the truth!"

Gia started to cry. "Ok! I broke the window," she lied. "I did it and I'm sorry."

Her father punched her again and threw her to the floor. "That's for lying. I'll deal with you more later, now go get ready for school!"

Gia nodded and ran to her room. Her stomach was hurting from being punched. She lifted up her yellow shirt, happy to see there was no bleeding. She looked at her arm and saw only a couple bruises. She grabbed her school bag and left her room. She saw her dad on he couch, and walked past him quickly. She slipped out the door, just shutting before a liquor bottle hit. She jumped at the sound of breaking glass, running down her front steps.

She walked to school, anticipating seeing Emma. Ever since her mom had gotten pregnant, her dad had been directing more of his anger towards his daughter. The daughter they blamed for everything. When she reached the school grounds, she found Emma was waiting for her.

"Hi Gia!"

"Hi Emma."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," Gia lied, pulling her sleeve down farther. "Nothing's wrong. Lets go play."

"Ok. My, mom's taking me too the park tomorrow. Wanna come?"

"Can I?"

"Yeah."

_My parents have never taken me to the park_. "Ok. Sound like fun."

**Age 8**  
Gia sighed as she grabbed 2-year-old Ian and placed him on the floor. "No, Ian," she said. "You don't put that in your mouth."

"Sistah!" he said excitedly. "Sistah!"

"Shh!" Gia shushed. "If you wake Dad up, he'll beat us both senseless."

"Sistah!"

"Shhh!"

"Gia!"

"Now you've done it," Gia muttered. She ran out of the room, and out into the living room. "Yes?"

"Can't you keep that brother of yours quiet?! Aren't you good for anyhting?!" her dad yelled, his speech slurring slightly. Gia could smell the alcohol coming off of him.

"Dad, I think you've had too much to drink."

"Don't talk back to me, girl!" He slapped Gia, making her flinch.

"Sorry."

"Just keep that boy quiet!"

"Yes Dad." Gia turned and ran from the room. She ran back to the room in the back that had once been just hers. She picked up Ian and put him in his crib. "Shhh," she said. "Don't cry Ian. Please. I don't want Daddy to hurt me. Or you."

Ian looked up at her and smiled. "Sistah."

"I promise, I'll keep him from hitting you too." It was a promise the young girl wished she could keep. Her parents had been acting very lovable towards Gia and her younger brother since his birth. But she'd been cautious of them all the same. "I promise, Ian. I'll protect you."

**Age 10**  
"Why is Becca so small?" Ian asked Gia.

"Because she's a baby, Ian. Everybody starts out that small. Even you did."

"I don't believe you."

Gia shrugged as she bounced baby Rebecca in her arms. "You don't have to believe me for it to be true." Ian stuck his tongue out at her, then reached up onto the counter for a spoon. "Ian, be-" she flinched when he knocked over a glass. "Careful."

"I sorry."

Gia shook her head. "Quick and clean it up."

Ian nodded and started to pick up the glass pieces. The door opened and their mom came in. She was dressed in clothes Gia cloud only describe as being, 'prostitute worthy'. She blonde hair was in slightly disarrayed, and her make-up was a little out of sorts. She threw her purse on the couch and sat down, taking off her black, heeled shoes. Gia decided to stall for her brother. "Hi Mom," she said walking over.

"Hello," her mother said tiredly.

"Becca was missing you. I think she wants you to hold her."

"Not now. I'm too tired."

"Right sorry." Her mom got up and heard for the kitchen. Gia stepped in front of her quickly. "Uh...mom. Maybe you should lay down. I'll get you something to drink. Some hard stuff?"

"No, Gia. I'll get it. You take care of Becca."

"But-"

"Gia, move! Don't make me ask you twice!"

Gia sighed defeatedly, and stepped aside. She heard her mom's surprised outburst and Ian's cry of pain. Gia walked around the counter and stood against the wall. Ian was standing with his head down, their mother standing over him, glaring. "Well?! What happened?"

"It was an accident," Ian insisted. "Honest. I didn't mean to knock the glass over."

Their mother slapped him. "Don't be stupid. We don't have the money to replace a bunch of glasses."

"I'm sorry."

Their mom grabbed his arm and led him to the back door. She threw him out into the backyard and looked the door. "You stay put!" She turned to Gia. "Don't let him back in. Understand?" Gia nodded. She went to the room that now held a bunk bed, and a crib. She set baby Becca down in it and went to the window. She grabbed a blanket, glancing up at the rain clouds. She opened the window and threw the blanket out, whistling.

She shut it just as drops started to fall. Ian ran around to the back and grabbed the blanket. He nodded his thanks and wrapped himself up in it, pulling it over his head to protect him for the coming storm.

**Age 13**  
Gia went to the door whe she heard a knock. "Coming! Ian, watch Becca and Aaron."

"Ok." Ian waved a colored frog on a plastic stick in front of his younger brother's face.

Gia opened the door and stumbled back a little bit in shock. "Emma?"

"Hey," Emma said hugging her.

"What- what're you doing here?"

"I came to see you. You said you couldn't go out with me, so I thought I'd stay in with you."

"But-"

"Who she?" Rebecca asked, looking up from her coloring.

"Oh..um...Emma, these are my siblings. Baby Aaron, Rebecca, and Ian. Guys, this is my friend Emma."

"Hi."

Ian looked at Emma distrustfully. "Hi!" Becca said happily. Gia smiled. Her sister loved everybody.

"What're you guys doing?" Emma asked sitting on the floor with them. Gia joined her, picking up Aaron and sitting him in her lap.

"I colorin!" Becca said excitedly.

Emma looked at the worn coloring book and the broken crayons. There were only a few colors, but they all appeared to be used. "Very nice."

Gia made Aarin clap his hands. "Baby Aaron applauds Becca's artistic beauty. Ian, why don't we clean up before mom and dad get home."

"Ok." Ian got up and helped Gia collect the various, empty, beer and liquor bottles that littered their living room floor.

Emma sat with Aaron in her lap. He looked up at her in fascination. He had the same, golden hair and blue eyes that his siblings had. She looked down at Becca who was still coloring away. Emma noticed some bruises on the small girl's neck. It looked almost like someone had grabbed her there. She diverted her eyes. She had always noticed marks like these on Gia. Places where someone had obviously hit her or grabbed her. She stood up and went into the kitchen. "Ian, I'll help Gia. Why don't you go sit with Becca?"

Ian looked at Gia for approval. "Ok," he said when he'd gained it. He took Aaron carefully and went back to the living room.

"Thanks for coming over," Gia said as they emptied dirty dishes out of the sink. "I would've preferred you to stay away, but, I'm actually kind of glad you're here."

"Thanks, and what're friends for?" It was quiet for a moment while Gia washed the dishes. Emma dried them since there wasn't a drying rack. "Gia."

"Yeah."

"I noticed some bruises on Becca's neck."

Gia managed to hold onto a glass on her surprise. "Oh? It's probably from falling. You know how kids can be."

"Yeah I suppose. Just like you. Walked into a door; a wall; tripped down some stairs; got in a fight with some kids on the street."

"What're you saying?"

"Gia," Emma out a hand on her shoulder. Gia looked at her. One of her eyes had a shiner. "I've been pretending, all these years, I saw the signs, but I said nothing. I let you believe I bought your ridiculous stories. I know what's really going on."

"No you don't."

"I do. I can help-"

"No, you can't!" Gia insisted. "You don't know my parents. They will hurt me, and my siblings if we tell a soul."

"But there are people who can help you-"

"How?! By taking us away? Separating us? Maybe this is a disfunctional home, and maybe it is a little dangerous, but they're loved. I love them. I've raised them, because my good-for-thing-druggie-drunk-parents couldn't be bothered to do it. Please, Emma. You have to promise you won't say anyhting."

"Gia I can't. You're in danger! They're in danger!"

"Please. If you say anything all of us will deny it anyways. Please!"

Emma looked at Gia's pleading face. She didn't think it was right. It wasn't right that Gia always looked a little afraid to return home after spending time with Emma. It wasn't right that her younger siblings had to grow up like this. That any of them did. But Gia was her best friend. Emma didn't way Gia to be mad at her, or to cause her more pain than necessary. "Ok,", she agreed over her better judgement. "I won't tell anyone. Promise."

**A couple months later**  
Gia winced as she picked up a coloring book. She ran her hands briefly over her rib cage. Last night had been rough. She heard a knock on the door. "Coming." She opened it and blinked in shock. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Officer Gordy," said the police officer at the door. "Are your parents home?"

"Yes," Gia answered slowly. She went to the couch and tapped her dad on the shoulder. "Dad. Dad."

"Huh?"

"There's a cop here."

"Oh." He got up and rubbed his eyes. "Can I help you officer?"

Gia appreciated the fact that the cop took a moment to take her dad in. All messy hair-no shirt-alcoholic smell of him.

"Yes. Um, we received a call a few hours ago from a neighbor. They said the heard some screaming."

"They must've been mistaken."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The cop looked like he wanted to say more, but clearly he didn't have any other evidence to go on. "Alright then. Sorry to bother you. Have a nice day."

"Yeah." Her dad slammed the door shut and turned on her. "Did you tell him anything?!"

"N-no! I-ow! Dad I swear!"

He grabbed Gia and threw her on the ground. She wrapped her hands around her head. Her dad grabbed the bottom of her shirt and wrenched it off of her. She waited for a second to see what he would. She cried out in pain when she felt his belt hit her. Soon it opened wounds that had closed, making her scream even more. She could picture Ian hiding under the bed with Aaron and Becca. Two of them wondering if they were going to be next. Gia stopped screaming, lest the neighbors call the cops again.

"Don't. Ever. Tell. Anyone. Anything!" her dad shouted, hitting her harder with every word.

"Y-yes!" Gia managed. She heard the door bang open and there was shouting. She stayed curled in a ball.

"Get off me! Let go!" her dad shouted.

Gia lifted her head up and saw he was being handcuffed. Ian opened the door and poked his head out. An officer approached Gia. "Don't touch me!" she snapped, causing him to back off.

Becca came running over, hugging her. "Sister."

"It's ok Becca," Gia said rubbing her back. "It's ok."

"When I get out I'm going to find you all!" her dad shouted as he was dragged form the house. "You're mine, and they'll never find your bodies!"

Becca started crying on Gia. She awkwardly took her yellow shirt and slipped it on. Ian came out with Aaron in his small arms. Gia looked at the bruises on his face and neck. "Shh. It's ok, sweetie. It's ok."

**Another few months later**  
"No!" Ian shouted.

"Ian-"

"No! I won't do it."

"Ian Moran, come here now." He stopped his shouting and looked at her with tear-filled eyes. "I understand you don't want to go. But you don't have a choice."

"But I don't wanna leave you."

"I understand that. But, you have to. Becca is going with you."

"What about Aaron?"

"Aaron is going to another family. Missy said they're very nice, remeber? They go to church and everything. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"I'm gonna miss you." Gia hugged her little brother.

"I'm going to miss you too. I know it's hard to understand, but everything will be ok. Plus, remember that once a month we get to meet with each other."

Ian nodded. "I love you Gia."

"I love you too, Ian." She looked to where Becca was waiting. She smiled and opened her arms as Ian stepped away. Her younger sister ran to her and gave her a big hug. "Be good for your foster parents, and listen to Ian, ok?"

"Ok, sister. You be good too."

Gia laughed. "I promise I will be." She got up and approached the couple holding her brother Aaron. "Can I say goodbye?"

"Of course," the woman said. She handed him too Gia, who cradled him.

"Hi, sweetie. I'm going to miss you. You be a good boy. Ok?" Aaron smiled and grabbed a lock of her blonde hair. He had the same blue eyes and fine hairs on his head that Gia did. She hugged him gently. "I'm got in to miss you all."

**Age 15**  
"What are you doing?" Gia asked against her better judgment.

"What's it too you, skank?" her roommate asked.

"Forget I asked."

She rolled her eyes.

After being in the Sanders' Home for Girls for two years, Gia still didn't like roommate. The two of them had come into the group home only a week apart. They couldn't have been more different though. Gracie, the roommate, had apparently come from a rehab place she'd been put in by the state. Drinking and drugs were her addiction apparently. Their room generally got searched more then the others did. Gracie had not been friendly towards Gia at all. Not that Gia really got along woth any of the 11 other girls that lived in their shared home.

Gia finished putting her shoes on and left the room. "If you're going to break parole again, at least do it outside. I can't stand the smell of that cheap pot you smoke."

"Whatever, skank."

The name should've bothered Gia, but she'd figured out Gracie's crude way of talking was normal. Gia left the home and headed for Emma's house. She wanted to talk to her before she headed to social services to see her siblings. The letter she'd received weighed heavily in her pocket. She stopped at a bridge and took the letter from her pocket.

It's return adress was from the prison where her father was serving time for more counts of child abuse and neglect than she was sure any judge had seen one person accused of. "How did he get my adress?" she wondered. A copy of the letter detailing how he'd find her and her siblings, and kill them for ratting on him, had been taken by the police. Her father would most likely receive more time for contacting her, against the court's order. She took a shaky breath.

In the last two years she'd seen her siblings grow in photos and letters. All three of them had been adopted by their respective foster parents, and Gia saw them every month. She hung out with Emma and was forced to see a therapist. She didn't need one. She didn't want to talk about what she'd gone through as a child. She knew no one would understand the fear of wondering if you'd get beaten for the smallest thing; of getting locked out of the house; of trying to proetect your little brother and sister from the horror. She was perfectly happy to live with the nightmares and worries in silence.

It was pain like that, that caused her to keep Jake at arms length when he showed interest a few years later. What he saw was a girl who was pretty, strong, and put-together. Gia was none of those things in all truth. It took all her strength to stay out together. Would he still like her if he knew she'd once spent two hours crying and cringing on the ground? Would he think she was pretty if he saw the scars on her back from more beatings with a belt than she could count? Would he still like her of he knew the demons that troubled her mind and dreams? Probably not.

She knew him. He came from a good family. A mom who was a doctor, and a dad in the military. He was a good guy, with a great future. But they were from different worlds, and he would never understand the Gia underneath. But years before she met him, her hands shook as she ripped the letter to pieces. Her dad could never hurt her, or her siblings ever again. Her mom was in prison as well, but she was just a wash-out. Gia cried tears of relief as she realized it was truly over. They were finally safe.

She was greatful to Emma who'd stood by her through it all. Grateful to her siblings for being the brave little fighters they were through it all. Gia was a fighter like them. It was her stubbornness and attitude of never giving up that helped her fight as a ranger. She'd survived years of abuse and hurt. That hadn't killed her, and she'd be damned in a few space-bugs did her in. She would survive her fight now just like she had for years before.


	5. Jake

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer. I own nothing

_*Italic indicates thought_

Chapter Five: Jake

A/N: Hello people! So this is the last chapter, unfortunately. Thanks for all the reviews; follows; and favs! I enjoyed writing this a lot. As I said in the fist chapter, maybe I'll do this for other teams as well. Anyways, please read and review!

"The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can run from it, or learn from it." -Rafiki; The Lion King

**Age 2**  
"Dada!" Jake shouted excitedly, running into his dad's arms.

"Hey buddy," Billy said picking up his son. "How are you?"

"I kicked da ball!" Jake said excitedly.

"You did? You mean like this?" He set his son down and gave the soccer ball a light kick.

Jake laughed and clapped his hands. "Yay! Me now!" He ran up to the ball and kicked it with all his might. He fell on his butt from the momentum.

His dad laughed and picked him up so he was on his feet. "Good kick buddy."

"Jake! Billy! Lunch!" Mary Holling said from the back door.

"Come on buddy," Billy said lifting his son up. He swung him over his shoulder, making a jake laugh.

"Wunch! Wunch!" he cheered as his father carried him inside.

**Age 5**  
Jake watched as his mom hugging his dad. "Come home safe darling," she said.

"I'll try." Billy looked at his son, who wathed him with curious eyes. "Come here Jake." Jake ran into his father's arms. He hugged him tightly. "Listen buddy. I need you to look after your mother while I'm gone, ok?"

"Ok Daddy."

"Good. Be a good boy, alright?"

"Alright." Jake traced the 'Holling' name tag on his dad's camo uniform. "I miss you Daddy."

"I'll miss you too." Billy gave his son another hug and kissed the top of his head. He stood up and hugged his wife. "I'll be him soon."

"You'd better be," she answered, kissing him. They broke apart and she picked up a Jake. He gave his dad a high-five.

Billy smiled and grabbed his bag, walking away. Mary hugged her son, as he put his head on her shoulder. Watching his dad disappear into the sea of camo soldiers saying good-bye.

"Mommy," he said as they left. "Why Daddy leave?"

"Because, angel," she said. "Daddy is a soldier. Remember?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So it's his job to go away and fight."

"I don't want him to leave."

"Me ether, Jake. But he'll be home soon. You'll see."

**Age 6**  
Jake's team mates cheered when he scored the final goal. The game was over and they rushed to encircle him. He hi-fived everyone, including the coach. He smiled as he followed his team mates to get lined up and have the post-game handshake. After going down the line, and 'good gaming' all of the kids on the other team, Jake went to get his stuff. He grabbed his water and waited for his mom on the edge of the field. As he did he saw his team mates leaving the field.

It made him sad to watch them go with their parents; especially their dads. His mom was working all the time, because being a doctor was a hard job. He kicked at the ground with his cleats. He noticed that he was one of the few people left. His coach approached him with his son, Jimmy, Jake's best friend. "Hey Jake."

"Hey Coach."

"No sign of your mom yet?"

"No."

Jimmy looked out to the road and frowned. "Dad, who's that?"

The coach looked up and smiled. "Why don't you ask Jake?"

"Who is it, Jake?"

"Huh?" He turned and dropped his water bottle. "Dad!" he shouted running for his father's arms. He hugged him with all his strength. "Dad, I missed you."

"I missed you too buddy. How was the game?"

"It was awesome! I scored the last goal, and I won!"

"That's awesome!"

Jake buried his face in his dad's shoulder. "I'm so glad you're home. Mommy missed you too."

"You think so?"

"Uh huh. I heared her crying."

"You did?"

"Yup." Jake's coach came over with Jimmy.

"Here," Jimmy said handing the water to Jake. "This is your dad?"

"Yup."

Billy stood up with his son stil hanging off of him. "Come on buddy, let's go surprise your mother."

"Ok. Bye coach, bye Jimmy!"

"Bye! See you tomorrow!" Jimmy shouted waving.

Jake couldn't stop grinning as he put his head on his dad's shoulder. "I'm so glad your home. Never leave again."

Bully smiled. "I can't promise that buddy. But I can try."

**Age 8**  
"Jake, sweetie," Mary said. "We have something to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"We're moving."

"Moving?! Moving where?!"

"Virginia," his dad said.

"Why?!"

"Because the military wants me to do some stuff over there."

"But...I don't wanna move!"

"Well I'm sorry, but that's the situation."

Jake pouted and hopped down from his seat. "I don't want to move! I'll miss all my friends!" He ran from the room and slammed his bedroom door shut. He kicked a soccer ball against the wall. He didn't care if he broke something.

The next day at school he was still thinking about the fact that he was moving away. He was waiting for Jimmy to arrive, and saw the nerdy kid who lived across the street from him, Noah. He scowled. It wasn't fair that Noah got to live in the same house, in the same city, and continue going to the same school. He walked towards the younger boy, deciding to make the world fair.

Noah looked up and sighed. "What do you want, Jake?"

"What's this?" Jake asked snatching a book out of his hands.

"Mine. Give it back!" Noah reached for it, but Jake held it away. He scowled and tore out a page. "Hey!" Noah tried to get up, but Jake pushed him into the wall.

"What's wrong, Nerd? Life unfair?" He tore out another page. "That's too bad."

"Stop it!"

"Make me!" Jake quickly tore out page after page, not caring that Noah was begging him to stop. He crumpled up the last page and stuffed it Noah's mouth. "Shut up! Just be quiet, and stop running your stupid mouth, nerd!"

Noah mumbled something and took the paper out. "Ruffian," he said, sniffling. He grabbed his bag and ran past Jake, who couldn't help giving him one more shove.

"Stupid Noah," he muttered. His neighbor and classmate since kindergarten was usually the recipient of Jake's anger. A teacher approached Jake, and he knew he was in trouble. But he didn't care.

"Why'd you do it Jake?" his father asked him when he picked his son up from school.

"What'd you mean?"

"Noah, the boy who lives across the street. Why did you destroy his book?"

Jake sighed. "Because I was mad."

"That's not good enough."

"Well it's the truth. I was mad that we're moving."

"So you punished Noah, for something that doesn't effect him."

Jake looked away. "He deserved it."

"Oh? How?"

"His life is too perfect. He gets to see both his parents his whole life, and he doesn't have to move."

Billy sighed. "No one's life is perfect, Jake. Everyone has problems. Listen, I might end up leaving again, in the future, and I want to know I can trust you to make me proud while I'm gone."

"I always want to make you proud."

"Well you won't by bullying others."

"Yes Dad."

**Age 10**  
Jake was all alone, sitting on a swing at his new school. He watched the others kids playing. So far, he'd been there for a week, and not made a single friend. It was his third time moving schools in the last two years. He was getting tired of it. He watched as a group of three boys chased another one around the playground.

"Stay away form me!" the boy shouted.

Jake got an idea and jumped off the swing; he knew how to make friends. He tripped the boy as he ran by, laughing as he fell. "Watch it dork."

Two of the boys picked their victim up, laughing. Another boy, clearly the leader, stepped forward and punched him. He punched the boy again, the looked at Jake. "Wanna join in?"

Jake looked at the boy, seeing the fear in his eyes. "Sure." He punched the boy in the gut, making him double-over in pain. Jake laughed for the pleasure of the others.

The two others the boy go and he ran away as fast as he could. The group laughed. They turned to Jake then. "I'm Dillon," the leader said.

"Jake."

"Nice to meet you Jake. You're pretty cool. Come on, there's more dorks to introduce you to."

Jake, who was so happy about making some new friends that he wasn't listening to his inner-voice, followed without hesitation.

**Age 13**  
Jake stood with his parents as they hugged good-bye.

"I'll be back," his dad promised.

"I'll be waiting," his mom replied.

He kissed her, then turned to Jake. "Behave," he said. "I need you to look after your mother. Ok?"

"Ok Dad."

Billy hugged his son. "You're a good kid, Jake," he said into his ear. "I know you are. This...thing you've been going through for the last few years ain't you. Be the Jake I know you really are."

"Ok." Jake put his face on his day's shoulder. "I love you Dad. I'll make you proud, I promise."

"I know you will."

**6 months later**  
Jake was walking home from a rough day. Since his dad had been deployed he'd decided to try and behave better. It was part of his job to help his mom take care of the house, and he knew he needed to stop acting like a jerk. That particular day he'd opted out of teasing another kid, told off his "friends" and been in a fight. _This day cannot get any worse,_ he thought. As soon as he opened the door to his apartment though, he knew he was wrong.

He shut the door and dropped his bag when he saw his mom sitting in the living room with two army officers. "Mom?" he asked, voice already shaking. "What're you doing home? Who are they? What's going on?"

"Jake, sweetie, come here," she said, patting the couch.

"It's dad, isn't it?" he asked. "He's not coming home? Is he?" The look on her face was all he needed for answer. He opened the door and ran outside. He pounded down the stairs and sprinted down the street. He didn't care where he went, as long as he could get away from the truth. _Don't let it be true,_ he thought. _Please. Don't let it be true!_ But it was. And deep inside him he knew he could never out run that.

[A Couple Weeks Later]  
Jake was dressed in all black, standing next to his mom. There was a small crowd of people behind them paying their last respects. He watched as a soldier, dressed in his finest, approached his mom, and handed her a folded American flag. She handed it to her son who hugged it to his chest as she put her arm around him. He barely listened to what everyone said. How his dad was a hero. How he saved the lives of a lot of people. That was all well and good, but Jake could only focus on the fact his dad was never going to play soccer with again. Jake traced the one the the stars on the flag with one finger.

His mom started sobbing and he put and arm around her, still hugging the flag to his chest. _I'll make you proud Dad,_ he thought. His final words to his father. _I promise_.

**Age 14**  
"Hey!" Dillion called getting Jake's attention. "The math club is leaving in a few minutes. Wanna find some nerds to knock?"

Jake sighed in exasperation. "No. Don't you ever quit?"

"What'd you mean?"

"It gets old. Ok. It's not ok, to beat kids up, and threaten them. If they're smarter than us, oh well. If they stutter, or weaker, we should protect them. Not demean them."

"What happened to you? Before your dad died you were cool."

"No, I was a jerk! I let you and others kids decided how I ws going to act, just to fit in. Well, I'm done! I don't need to fit in anymore. I'd rather be a brave outcast, than a coward who bullies people just to fit in." With that he yurend and walked away. He don't care anymore.

He walked home in the light rain, feeling depressed. The weather seemed to match his mood. He walked into the apartment, feeling even sadder at the emptiness inside. He dropped his bag on the floor and walked over to a small table against the wall. On it, was the pristine and folded flag a soldier had handed to Jake's mom at his day's funeral. There was also a picture of him in his camo uniform. He opened up the small box that contained the personal effects his dad had been carrying when he died. Inside, were his dog tags, a picture of Jake and his mom, a torn, and blood covered watch, and a good luck charm Jake had made him for his first deployment.

Jake took the dog tags out and put them around his neck. He closed the box gently, and collapsed against the wall, crying. It was a year since the day he'd come home, to his worst nightmare. He felt so lonely. He had always been a jerk. And not even being a nice guy now could give him friends. Other kids just couldn't forgive him for what he'd done. He cried, so much it physically hurt.

"I'm sorry Dad. I'm sorry."

**Age 16**  
When Jake was back in Harwood County life wasn't that better. He still couldn't make friends, and he didn't fit in with his old friends. He was still lonely and sad. Until he ran into the nerdy boy across the street again. The day he'd helped Noah pick up his books, he'd meant only to apologize. It had been on a whim he'd made plans to walk with him the next day. Which had turned into another day; and another; and another; and another. It only took a few months before they were best friends.

Jake was sitting in his room, arms wrapped around his knees. He heard someone knock on his door. He hared hi mom answer, an then the door shut. He hoped whoever it was had left. He didn't want too see anyone today. That is until his best friend walked in.

"Hello Jake," Noah said, sitting done next to him.

"Hey Noah. What's up?"

"Nothing in particular, besides the obvious. And you?"

"This day...it just...it's sucks the life out of me."

"I'm really sorry Jake," Noah said. "I sincerely am."

"You know what the worst part is?" Jake asked, unable to stop the tears in his eyes and voice. "I was nothing but a brat. My dad, the war hero, and I was a brat to him. To everyone. I wanted him to be proud of me. But I wanted to fit in more. All those times he must've been so ashamed of me. Of what I'd done."

Noah didn't say anything for a minute. "Jake...I would be lying if I said you weren't a jerk in the past. This is true. However, you have redeemed yourself more than you can comprehend. It takes a lot of courage to do what you've done. It takes a lot of character to admit you did wrong and apologize for it. You're the first, and best friend, I've ever had. You're dad would be proud of you."

Not knowing what to do next, he patted Jake's knee. Jake put his arm and around Naoh and cried in his shoulder. Noah froze for a minute, still unsure what to do then wrapped his arm around Jake. "It's ok. You're not a jerk. You're the best guy in the world. And nobody can convince me otherwise."

"Thanks man," Jake said.

"Well, as you've said many times since we've reunited, that's what friends are for."

Jake smiled, glad he had a friend like Noah around. A real friend, who didn't pressure him into making bad decisions, and a bad personality. Someone who always tried to convince him to do his best, and behave at his finest. He had been a bully as a kid, but he supposed if given the rot circumstances, a bully could be come a great person. It was amazing to him that Noah had forgiven him so completely. It wasn't until he had told Jake why that he'd understood. He'd been redeemed in a single act of kindness that no on else seemed to give.

He missed the days when his dad was still around, by dealing with his deaths as easier with Noah around. Hcing someone to joke with, and more importantly protect made it better. He'd vowed after the funeral to protect people, like his dad. To be a good person and to make a decision based in what he wanted. Which was a hard thing to do, since peer pressure was so easy to succumb to. And it was the day he may Gia that he was reminded of the love he parents and was had for each other. He had fallen for for the simple fact that she reminded him simple, beautiful things could still exist. But, he always thought the reason she refused to go out with him was because she knew the guy he used to be.

And he accepted that, but vowed not to let her go. He would follow her to the ends of the earth to prove he was a different guy. One who would be sweet and never hurt her. He ened up making more friends, who'd didn't force him to make bad choices, but he did make some enemies standing up for Noah, and other kids he saw being picked on. He knew he could make his dad proud by protecting others, and being a good person. It was that reason he'd gladly picked his morpher when he met Gosei. He knew there was a war to be fought, and people to protect. He'd felt the weight if his day's dog tags on his neck that day. He had a lot to live up to, and a lot to fight for; his only thought heading fro his first battle being: _I'll make you proud Dad._


End file.
